Poké Wars: The Elucidation
by WitheringPower
Summary: Zygarde sees a solution to the Poke wars... and it isn't genocide. But will humanity like it any better?
1. Garbage and Guns

**This is an extension of Cornova's Poke wars. It is done with his permission, and is not canon.**

**Also, at the behest of an acquaintance, I must clarify, the Garbodor and Trubbish don't create matter from nothing when using recycle, their bullets are made from the steel skeleton they got from eating the APC.**

* * *

Talon was chilled to the bone, looking at the feeding frenzy before him. The essence of Marie's plan was simple: Her Garbodor and the Trubbish, using their natural chemical-mixing abilities, could turn organic matter, rich in hydrogen and carbon, into something similar enough to jet fuel. Once they had enough, they could fly away from the fighting.

Many objections had entered Talon's mind when the plan was suggested. None of them knew how to drive the 1950s _Fearow-_model_,_ and if they managed it somehow, then where would they go? It wasn't as if the disaster was localized, it wasn't as if there was anywhere they could hide. Also, what did she mean by organic matter?

His doubts were doused however, she was too eager to have a plan, after months of hiding and praying. When the undampening occurred, he had been training on route 15, east of Marvelous Bridge in the Unova region. He had been forced to run from a group of rampaging Throh, and hid inside an old military surplus depot lower down on the coast. Eventually, other trainers from the route hid there too, as it seemed to be the only safe place. Now, he looked at the war machines fighting in front of him, and was sick. _Meat _was the organic matter that she had spoken of.

He would have left with the other trainers, but on the first day, his leg had been snapped by rampaging Tyranitar, which had also killed his Pokémon. Marie had dragged him back to the depot, and tended to his wounds, and now he stayed because he thought he owed it to her. He was beginning to regret his decision though.

**…**

The leader of the group of trash bags, a monstrous Garbodor, had a different view of things. Garbodor laughed and roared and squealed, the battle making his toxic blood pump. His Mistress had made him and his brethren devour an APC, the way they devoured garbage, so its metal was incorporated into their system. Despite looking like ordinary members of their species, each Trubbish had a metal skeleton. Better yet, the Mistress had another great idea, utilizing their unseen potential. Each Trubbish also had a wide array of pistols and rifles within them, and whenever they ran out of bullets, they would simply use the move Recycle, which made any item they held ready to be used again. In this manner, they never needed to reload, and never ran out of ammo.

Garbodor crushed a Watchog underfoot, and blasted an incoming Sandslash with his trusty double barreled shotgun. A pair of Fearow swooped with vengeance in their eyes, he nailed them with Acid spray and Thunderbolt. This made Garbodor laugh again, after being so long in the Poké transfer lab; he couldn't help but learn some new tactics. He stopped a leaping Scrafty with Focus Blast, and smiled as its falling limbs were devoured by his little Trubbish. He felled an Emolga flying above with the move Psychic, a move rarely mastered by one of his kind.

Eventually the scared and scarred attackers turned tail and fled. Garbodor and his forces gave them no quarter, firing with guns and acid. Many more fell, until finally they finally hid within the safety of the forest. Then, the trash bag Pokémon went to work, eating all the meat that they could. Eventually, their hunger was sated; they saved the thunderbolt-cooked Fearow, hoping that their Mistress would like it for dinner.

As they walked up the knoll, they saw the other trainer, the _He-Trainer_. Garbodor had tried his best to make friends with the _He-Trainer, _after all, Mistress liked him, and any friend of Mistress was a friend of theirs. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to like poor Garbodor, no matter how hard he tried. Garbodor fought extra viciously in battle, hoping to impress him, but this seemed only to sicken him. He saved the best corpses for him, but this sickened him more. He made sweet smells with chemicals, and while they impressed Mistress, they had no effect on the _He-Trainer. _Garbodor was at the end of his wits with this predicament.

**…**

Talon was surprised at the trash-Pokémon's actions. As soon as they spotted him, they quickly cleaned up, as if trying to put on a good face. The Garbodor offered him an unidentifiable charred corpse, still smoking. Realizing that it was probably going to be dinner anyway, Talon gingerly took a leg, and followed the Pokémon back to the entrance of the depot.

Marie waited for him, her face troubled. But as soon as she saw the ensemble, she smiled and called them over. The Trubbish marched before their mistress and saluted gracefully, before breaking into fits of giggling. Garbodor looked disgusted at his troop's weakness, but Marie only laughed. Her smile grew as Talon approached, until she was practically beaming. "How did my little soldiers do?" she said playfully.

"They burned, murdered and consumed all before them," Talon hissed angrily.

"No need to get so antsy, they were just doing their job," she said as she ushered the group in, "besides, you're in for a treat, we have another survivor."

Talon's eyes widened "You didn't just let him in, did you?"

"Yes, _she_ was injured," She stared at his eyes, "what's wrong with you?"

"It's been three months since the undampening, and this is the first 'survivor' we've met. I smell a fake!" Talon unsheathed his trench knife.

"Don't be so dramatic, no Ditto or ghost Pokémon live in this whole area!" Marie countered. The two continued to bicker, while Garbodor tried to ask if humans could smell fakes or not. His pleas fell on deaf ears, and eventually the Trubbish and their leader went to the various garbage piles around the depot.

**…**

Garbodor had gotten very philosophical over the past few months. He had tried asking Mistress if they needed _He-Trainer_. He seemed more trouble than he was worth, but the only thing that Mistress had said was that he may be the last _He-Trainer_ in the whole world, and she would need him if she ever wanted children. Garbodor had tried to pry at how _He-Trainer_ would help her procure children, but this had only embarrassed his Mistress, whose replies became very vague when presented with that subject. Garbodor suspected that this was one of those special "human" things that his Mistress spoke of, like driving a car. Garbodor had only driven a car only once in his life, back when he was a Trubbish, and though he thought he was doing a good job, Mistress was praying for her life. He had promised never to scare her like that ever again.

**…**

Talon stormed into the room, staring the new comer in the eyes. He was surprised to find that she was a back-Packer, just like him. A calculating look entered his eye, this fact made him more suspicious, the chance that the only survivor they had found was like him was almost nil. Quite in fact, their physique was similar; both were approximately five feet tall, with stout legs, shaggy brown hair, and grey eyes. Differences did abound of course; she looked graceful and lithe, while the same traits made him look like a mugger.

She gave him the same calculating eye, before turning her attention to something else. "Is that a Trubbish holding an assault rifle?" she asked calmly, though her eyes showed her true fear. The Trubbish held his M2 Carbine with pride, and he cleaned it carefully with a car rag.

"Unfortunately, yes." Talon said, his suspicion unwavering.

"Uh….. Why is a Trubbish holding an assault rifle?" She asked, her voice still calm.

"It was the best idea we had," Talon said, staring darkly at Marie.

"Doesn't mean it was a good idea," she said, crossing her arms. Talon noticed other things about her as well. Her eyes were shaped like his, her hands riddles with scars, probably from some Pokémon attack, her chest - suddenly; Talon became red-faced, and decided to look elsewhere than her torso.

This look didn't escape Marie, who decided to intercept. "Myra, this is Talon," she said, placing her hands on his shoulders, "and Talon, this is Myra."

"Nice to meet you, Talon," she said, her eyes calculating, "You look suspiciously like me…. You're that Ditto who's been following me, aren't you?"

Talon hissed stabbing the table with his trench knife, "Is that some joke! How do we know you're not some Ditto!"

"You live in a compound filled with Pokémon holding all manner of weaponry, while I have been running for my life from the monsters out there. The only thing that doesn't indicate that you're a Ditto is that you haven't killed me yet," she said, her voice still even.

Talon hadn't thought of it that way. He withdrew his trench knife, sheathing it. "Okay, you have a point. Guess you're going to have to see Gulpin." Talon said, his eyes scanning her for any trace of fear. There was none, but Marie wasn't too pleased.

* * *

Malamar sauntered forward, his legs too short for any fast gait. He had just ridden a Rapidash halfway across the continent, but the stupid beast had collapsed and died a few miles back, so Malamar was forced to return to his homeland on foot. He smiled when thinking of the Rapidash, It had been so eager to defend its trainer, but now its bones were amongst the dust. All he had to do was wave his tentacles about, and the Rapidash was under his power, even crushing its own trainer. He would have executed the creature mercifully, but it had insulted his gender, so he rode it into the ground.

This ruffled his tendrils, even thinking about it. Somehow, all Malamar had some superficial resemblance to human women, perhaps due to the slender body and flowing tentacle-like hair. Malamar couldn't count how many Pokémon in the east had called him female. He remembered the day a Blastoise and an Octillery had even tried to hit on him. That day was more memorable than it appeared, it was his trainer's idleness while he was embarrassed that made him run away.

All the people he hypnotized, all the possessions he stole…. And things were only getting better after the undampening. Already he was on his way home, with an important mission from his superiors. Still, the border was a few miles off, and all the walking was getting annoying.

"I never thought I would be meeting the man himself," Malamar cooed to himself, trying to ignore his sore knees "Zygarde old man, Uxie wishes to contact you."


	2. Strong Stuff

**This is a fan-fiction of Pokemon, which I don't own, and is set in the universe of Cornova's Pokewars. I once again decree that it is done with his permission, and it isn't cannon. **

**On another, different note, Malamar didn't just die in the second chapter. He survived, by means illuminated in the third chapter.**

* * *

Malamar had travelled thirty miles by the time it was nightfall, and was quite proud of himself. Of course he all owed it to his ability, Watashitachi-no-sosen-ga-kossori-iru-kodai-no-umi- no-seimei-sen, "the lifeblood of the ancient oceans where our ancestors sleep", or as the vulgar humans called it, the ability Contrary. When he felt tired, he would use the attack Superpower on a nearby tree or shrub, utterly destroying it, but filling himself with energy at the same time. Most Pokémon would have been drained after using such an attack, but Malamar were blessed, for anything that would potentially weaken them would give them strength instead.

He had been able to cover more ground when the trees thickened, which allowed him to use his long tentacles for locomotion instead of his short legs. Swinging from tree to tree became boring after awhile, and while his psychic sense kept a constant lookout, his mind began to wander. He wouldn't be in this position, using the gift of his people to swing like a half-wit Infernape, if the humans had made higher quality machines.

"Retarded sons of Houndours," he hissed, "Making their best war machines gas guzzlers!" Perhaps the old 1940s battleship wasn't the "best war machine", but it had served its purpose, and Mamalar missed it. One of the first things he had done after escaping was use his hypnotic powers to hypnotize the crew of the _Shining Red Gyarados_ into his service, and had sailed the coastline merrily. After the Undampening, he had used it as his own personal command center, coordinating a force of hypnotized humans. It was his vicious yet calculated attack that led to the destruction of the Hoenn battle factory, and got him to be so respected by the land Pokémon. In fact, he had been sent as an emissary to his homeland, hoping to contact Zygarde in Uxie's name. Unfortunately, there were no gas refills for the old battleship, because there were no human settlements Malamar could find intact. So the _Shining Red Gyarados _ran out of fuel, and he was forced to continue the rest of his trip on land.

Something shook Malamar out of his daydreaming. For the past miles, it had been an ordinary forest, with sparse underbrush, but suddenly, without any middle region, a path began, made of pink and white marble. This was a great cause for suspicion, for all humans here should have been wiped out, and Malamar knew no Pokémon that built stone paths.

It was midnight, but he could see fine. There were advantages to being a dark Pokémon. The trees had become sparser, and this forced him to walk in the shadows beside the path, continually scanning the area around him psychically. It was a night of a new moon, and the only light in the sky was that of the stars. If he could, he would have levitated, but could not, as he was part dark type, and could not grasp his own body with psychic powers. There were downfalls, too.

He felt a large group of Pokémon marching down the road, and quickly he retreated deeper into the shadows. The group proceeded through into the night, seeming to be made up of revelers. A Delphox at the head of the group used Will-O-Wisp to light up the night, making blue fireballs float everywhere, bathing the forest in calm light. Malamar smelled a strange scent, and his psychic sense confirmed it: these Pokémon where drunk, downright hammered to be honest.

The procession continued, getting wilder and louder as more Pokémon marched across the road. A prancing Absol marched by, Malamar had never seen one of their kind so happy. A Pyroar tried as best it could to rise on its back legs and dance, before falling on its side and guffawing. What would have been a graceful ballet between a Roserade and a Lucario was marred by drunken clumsiness. "What were you worried about? They couldn't fight if they wanted to," Malamar whispered, almost in self mockery, "they can hardly stand."

Then it happened. Walking along with the group of intoxicated Pokémon were some intoxicated humans. They pranced and laughed, one dancing with a Gardevior, another atop a Gogoat, which was perhaps the only Pokémon in the precession that was not drunk.

Malamar retreated more, his eyes focusing as he considered modes of attack. These were trainers' Pokémon obviously, as no wild Pokémon would be following humans, let alone get drunk. Malamar had wondered why he hadn't seen any wild Pokémon for a while – these humans, with such a huge number of Pokémon, had cleared the area, and made a fortress of their own. It also explained the road, and the far away lights.

He turned back, trying to reach the head of the group. He normally would have hesitated to fight such a large number, but they were all drunk, and because of how close they were clustered, none could really attack effectively. "First, I should take out the Delphox and the Pyroar, their flames could incinerate me," Malamar's internal monologue began, "Then, I should nail those dark Pokémon, the rest I can simply rip limb-from-limb using Psychic. The battle shouldn't be too hard after-" then he saw _her._

It was a Malamar – like him. The last time he had seen a member of his species was when he had kissed his mother goodbye before running off to play in the woods as an Inkay, as a child. He had grown into maturity on the far away shores of Kanto, and had never seen a female member of his species as a man. Her wide hips swayed slowly, her tiny legs advancing as gently as they pleased. She seemed only slightly drunk, her movements ever so graceful. He stared upwards towards her perfect face, and noticed the beautiful dance her tentacles performed over her head, giving the impression of a halo. Then Malamar realized two things.

First, he had been hypnotized, for the first time in his life, by an unaware female of his own species no less. He should have known better, after all, most of his foes made the same mistake. Just staring at the hypnotic movements of a Malamar made you utterly under its power. Second, while he was staring dumbly, he had walked out into the open, and all the Pokémon could see him. The Pokémon advanced, their actions slower and more deliberate.

Now he sprung into action. Malamar's flesh took on a blue sheen as he began the move Superpower, and ripped a piece of the marble road from the ground, only to fling it at the female of his kind, sending her flying into the forest. Then he turned, and fired a Hyperbeam from his beak, aimed at the Pyroar. His Hyperbeam went straight on course, frying the Pyroar and any other Pokémon that happened to be in the way. Now, Watashitachi-no-sosen-ga-kossori-iru-kodai-no-umi- no-seimei-sen empowered him, as his muscles strengthened from the Superpower and his fatigue was eliminated by using the Hyperbeam.

Only some Pokémon responded, all the others were too hammered, too slow to react, or too shocked to fight back. A Talonflame charged at Malamar, using the attack Flare Blitz to surround its body with flames, and to speed up immediately. Unfortunately for it, its eyes had locked onto Malamar, and its mind was immediately invaded by Malamar's hypnotic powers. The flaming comet did as it was psychically commanded, flying over Malamar and crashing into the Gardevior behind him, causing a fiery explosion engulfing both Pokémon and the trainer.

Up ahead, the Delphox tried to make her own attack, raising her wand and using Mystical Fire, turning her surroundings into a raging vortex of fire. Its drunkenness gave Malamar the upper hand; the vortex of 5400 degree flame accidentally turned all Pokémon close to it into ash, and lit the surrounding trees on fire.

Malamar used Psycho Cut, launching an invisible blade of psychic energy at the fox Pokémon, decapitating it. This caused the Will-O-Wisp lighting up the forest to disappear, meaning that the only light source was the flaming forest. From behind, one of his head tentacles also launched a Psycho Cut, in the direction of the Gogoat which had miraculously escaped the explosion of the Talonflame. It and its trainer ran down the road, the drunk human barely able to hold on. The Psycho Cut would have hit them, but a Clefairy leapt up and used the move Follow Me, automatically attracting all attacks towards it, leading to its quick evisceration.

Now, Malamar's phase 2 began, his tentacles moved rhythmically along with his feet, using his psychic sense to aid him in this move. Storm clouds gathered over head, it began to pelt rain down on the fires, extinguishing them. Malamar laughed as the forest was engulfed in total darkness, the rain clouds he had summoned using Rain Dance had blocked out the light from the stars, and put out the flames that the Delphox had lit.

His mind scanned the crowd of still confused Pokémon, quickly picking out top threats: the Lucario had mega-evolved, worse yet it couldn't care less about darkness, its aura sense would lead it immediately to him. The other top threat, the Absol, was hidden from his psychic sense due to it being a dark type, but he could hear it mega-evolve. In the cover of darkness he performed Superpower again, crushing some Diggersby cowering in front of him, and again Malamar felt the rush. He advanced towards the Lucario, psychic blades extending from the tips of his tentacles due to Psycho Cut.

The Lucario's metal spikes grew longer as it used Swords Dance, in preparation for the melee. Unfortunately for it, the playing field was not fair. Malamar lifted the Lucario up from the ground and immobilized him using Psychic, and closed in for the kill. Lucario wasn't helpless, and from the spike on its chest a blast of silver and blue energy surged; it had performed Flash Cannon while immobilized. The attack didn't pierce the quickly erected Light Screen Malamar erected; it only succeeded in making Malamar amused.

The mega-evolution was saved by its comrade, as Malamar raised its tentacle for the final blow; the Mega-Absol struck his side with Megahorn. Malamar would have been made it into a shish-kebab if it weren't for the effects of Superpower; not only did it increase his strength; it helped his defense as well. Malamar tried to hit the creature with Foul Play, but the Mega Absol retreated back into the darkness. Realizing that his plan was back firing, Malamar was forced to retreat. While most of the Pokémon simply sat stupidly (Malamar was wondering why they weren't attacking, they must be on some strong stuff), the Mega-Absol also fought better in the darkness, and its attacks came quickly and unexpectedly. Also, it blocked access to the Mega Lucario, who used the time Absol was buying it to boost its power with Iron Defense and Swords Dance.

Malamar wasn't taking much damage either. After using Superpower, it was as if he had Flesh made of iron. He tried to snap Lucario's neck with Psychic, but its neck muscles were so strong that it became impossible. "Two can play this game my friend," Malamar hissed, as he activated Superpower again, to rip a tree from the ground. Angrily he swung the timber like an angered Gurdurr wielding its metal beam, hitting the jumping Absol midair. He swung the tree trunk again, beating the disaster Pokémon while it was still on the ground. The Lucario jumped to its defense, its steel bones taking the attacks much better than the fragile bones of the Absol. The damage was done, the Absol's legs were broken and it couldn't attack.

Lucario struck again, its claws made into blades by Swords Dance. Malamar parried with the tree, but the Mega-Lucario's Metal Claw easily cut the wood. Briefly, it saw the eyes of its foe glow blue, but it was quickly forgotten as Malamar slammed its head with the only intact piece of the tree. This time, Mega Lucario's whole fist glowed red, and it put on a burst of speed as it executed Bullet Punch. It knocked the tree from Malamar's hand, before pummeling it with steel claws and fists.

Malamar used this chance, and dark energy surrounded him. His tentacles surged forward, lifting Lucario up and slamming him hard into the ground using Foul Play. Then, Malamar executed Reversal, smashing the Aura Pokémon with all the strength of its own Bullet Punch. It tried to get to its feet but another attack hit it, and in its final moments it realized the significance of the glowing blue eyes it had seen earlier.

The Future Sight attack hit it like a Skull Smash from a Rampardos. Waves of multicolor psychic energy battered it, and it would have collapsed had Malamar not held it in place with Psychic. The last strike – even Malamar had to admit it was overkill, the poor Pokémon was probably already dead – was Malamar's Hyperbeam hitting it at point blank range, right after the Future Sight attack, too soon for Lucario to react. Its charred corpse was sent flying through the woods, and when the attack finished, the body was miles away, left only as a metal skeleton.

But Lucario had done enough. From behind, Mega-Absol had used Rest, and had healed the broken bones. Malamar's psychic sense couldn't detect it as it rose, and used its trump card: the move Snatch. A thin line of dark energy connected with Malamar, and he knew his end was upon him. Snatch was a move he feared most, it stole all the boosts he had received from using Superpower and Hyperbeam. As soon as the energy left him, he wanted to collapse, but knew he could not, for some enemy had to have done this to him.

From behind, the Absol now was filled with the rush that Malamar felt, and leapt forward and executed Play Rough, violently shredding Malamar's flesh with claws, teeth, and its horn. Tentacles rose feebly, before the Reversal Pokémon's head was torn from his body, and the rest of him went limp.

* * *

Marie led Myra through to one of the rooms on the top floor of the Military Surplus Depot. "Don't mind Talon, I know he likes you," Marie said, jabbering inanely as they progressed, "At least now I'm not alone with him. He isn't bad, but sometimes he's such a tight ass, you know?"

"What's this business with 'the Gulpin'?" Myra asked, trying to redirect the flow of words. She could tell that Talon was not one for conversation; Marie was dying to talk to someone.

"Well, I worked at the Poké transfer labs on route 15. Well, not at the transfer lab itself, I just studied Pokémon. Anyways, when this disaster happened, I had gotten stuck in a closet. To-"

"How did you get stuck in a closet?" Myra asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I had to coax a Garbodor out," Marie responded gloomily, "Anyways, when I escaped the closet; everyone had left, and outside there were too many Throh for me to escape on foot. So, I took a delivery truck out, ran over some of those red murderers too. When I got to the military base, I found out that in the back was a shipment of Pokémon from Sinnoh. They were specially locked pokéballs, which we couldn't open. Talon did force one open and….. well, the Gulpin was in it."

"Yeah, so it was Gulpin. So what? Why do I have to see it?" Myra asked angrily.

"Um….. This Gulpin was a titan amongst its kind, larger than most Swalot. So much that its original trainer was forced to train it not to eat people. So, if you're a human, it won't eat you," Marie said, trying to sweeten every word.

Myra knew she was omitting something…. There was something Marie was uncomfortable about. "That's it? So I go in a room with a big Gulpin and see if its eats me?" Myra said suspiciously, "How is that an accurate test of whether I'm a Ditto or not?"

"Let's just get on with it," Marie said, fidgeting slightly, "Here is the door. Go in, but don't let any of your Pokémon out of their pokéballs. That could frighten it." She removed the bolts on the huge steel door, and pushed it so that it opened slowly. Myra entered slowly, not sure what to expect. The room was empty…

Then, she felt a something nab her from behind. The Gulpin had hidden behind the door, and struck as quickly as it could. Its chasm like mouth opened and enveloped her, before she even had a chance to let any of her Pokémon out. She punched and kicked and swore scathingly at the green folds of flesh, before being spat out again. Marie, who hadn't even closed the door, now rushed to her aid, pulling her away from the green behemoth. It was trying to clean out its mouth, and it ignored its only chance to escape. Marie shut the door, before turning to check on Myra.

Myra herself was amazed – she was actually cleaner than when she had entered. The only thing that was missing was her fleece cap, and she had half a mind to go back in there and show that overgrown slime ball what-for. Her rage was then aimed at Marie "It ate me! I-"

"Look," Marie began, "Gulpin have very sensitive hairs in their throats, allowing them to identify anything they swallow. That's why young Gulpin swallow anything they come across, it's like a toddler wanting to touch anything, it's their most developed sense. I should know, I used to study poison Pokémon."

"It ate me!" Myra shouted, the explanation not quelling her anger.

"Don't be such a baby, it swallowed you, and spat you out again," Marie responded curtly, "Showing that you were human. If you had been a Ditto, the hairs could've detected that the proteins of your skin weren't right, and you would've been forced into its stomach where acids strong enough to melt scrap iron brew. Illusions from dark and ghost Pokémon can fool all senses except touch, so you would've met the same fate if you were a ghost. Besides, its super sticky tongue got all that grime of you! It's like a really quick shower!" the way her tone shifted from scolding to cheerful was disturbing.

"That weird tentacle thing was its tongue?" Myra said, getting control of her emotions, "Good, I had suspected that it was… something else. Where's that blockhead Talon? This was his idea!"

**…**

Talon felt guiltier than ever before. These Pawniard were six months old – they had no teeth yet, forcing them to drink the strange chemical "milk" the Trubbish made – and he was training them. They were getting pretty tough, too, already their blades had hardened, and many of them had mastered Metal Claw, indicating that they were level 25, or so Marie had said. "What kind of scumbag am I?" he whispered, as he watched them disembowel a bag filled with straw, "None of you have reached one year of age, and you're level twenty five." Then he felt anger filling him again.

"Well I can't just let you into the wild, now can I?" he spat at them, "You'll become monsters, like them!" He pointed at the wall, but he hoped his meaning was clear. He suspected the Pawniard knew nothing of what he spoke. They had stopped attacking the bag and had come to his feet, trying to guess what was wrong. In the first few weeks, they had been afraid of his touch, as if any mistake they made would immediately be punished with pain. Now, when they sensed he was angry, they all ran to his legs and nuzzled them, hoping their body warmth would cheer him up.

Marie's cold voice rang through his head, as memories of that day not too long ago returned "Fabulous, steel types! You killed their mother in single combat, like in Bisharp packs. Now, they must follow your command or be beheaded! I hear this happens a lot amongst jealous Bisharp couples. You're their new Bisharp figure!"

"What the hell?! How does that work? I killed their mother in self defense!" past him said, the scene from his memories seeming totally dim except for their conversation.

"Before the Undampening, Bisharp travelled with groups of Pawniard, who would do all fighting, and the Bisharp would attack only to finish off the foe. Pawniard are eternally loyal to their Bisharp, if he were defeated by another Bisharp then their loyalties would go to the new one. You killed their old leader, which happened to be a newly evolved mother. So, now they will follow you to the ends of the Earth and fight your battles for you! Isn't this wonderful! Now you have 7 new Pokémon to replace the ones you lost! And I thought you would never make use of that trench knife!"

"In a Pignite's eye! You've inhaled too much Trubbish gas!" was his angered response, "and there's no way in hell that these little freaks are ever going to replace my Pokémon!"

"But you're going to train them anyway," the smile never escaping her lips, "to let them go would be to kill them – they are too young to live in the wild, and others of their kind would view them as 'mutineers' and wouldn't accept them in their pack. You want to survive, don't you?" Her huge smile became ominous, "So you're going to train them. They'll kill and spill blood in your name, but we will survive."

He was shaken from his memories, as he heard the current Marie's voice from beyond the door.

"I know you have a bone to pick with him. But don't go in there now. His little army is with him, and unless he indicates that he wants to fight you one on one, then going in there is suicide."

"They're baby Pawniards," Myra retorted, "My Pokémon can handle them."

"You don't get it. They're trained assassins. Being able to quickly fade into darkness using Faint Attack, they will quickly appear behind and above you and skewer you, bypassing your Pokémon all together."

"How did he get the little monsters on his side after all?" Myra's voice said complainingly, from behind the door directly.

"Oh, after all his Pokémon got killed and I dragged him back here, he spent a period in denial. One day, he ran off into the woods screaming that he would 'catch some new ones', and I had to send Garbodor to go look for him," Marie paused to catch her breath, before continuing. "According to Garbodor, Talon wandered into the forest and tried to catch a Sawk, but the pokéball wouldn't work, and he was forced to run. Eventually, the mother Bisharp attacked him, trying to get food for her starving young. She was inexperienced, and Talon stabbed her eye with that old knife of his. So, because of that, they view him as their new alpha, and obey his commands."

Talon kicked the door open, surprising the two talking women. "They're people, okay?" He shouted, "We're all people here, okay?! We can hear you perfectly! And I won't have you insulting my friends!" he gestured towards the Pawniard wildly, "They're children! I won't have you hurting them mentally or physically!"

Marie put on her 'Pokémon face' Talon recognized it as the face she wore when talking to the Trubbish. She knelt to her knees and offered her hands to the Pawniard, cooing softly for them to come. Talon was proud that none of them stepped forward. "Still don't like me, do they?" she said, "Well, I assume that you're finished training. Let's go and eat!" and she turned quickly and walked away, ignoring Talon's outburst.

Talon followed dejectedly, with a confused Myra in tow. The Pawniard remained in their room; they wouldn't leave unless given permission. It was meal time for them as well; one of the larger Trubbish entered the room, holding several baby bottles filled with white-yellow fluid.

**…**

Myra was considering running away in the middle of the night, but quickly she ditched that idea. Staying in this huge compound of strange winding corridors, old war machines, and weapon wielding-garbage heaps was uncomfortable, and the people made it worse. Perhaps something had happened to make them so – strange, Marie emotionally detached and Talon emotionally explosive. But somehow, in the middle of this hellhole, they survived. Now, they were the attention of the whole area. If she tried to escape, she would be cut off by separate Pokémon factions that were entrenched in the surrounding area.

"How come the Pokémon in this area are united when Pokémon everywhere else are breaking down into groups of their own species?" she asked herself, louder than she had wanted.

Marie response was cut off by Talon's rough grunt, "I don't know, but we don't plan on staying here long enough to find out. By next week would should have enough fuel to hightail it out of here."

"We may not have a week," Myra responded, "Did I mention a Ditto was following me?" she then considered his response, "How will you 'hightail it out of here'?"

Again Marie's answer was cut off by Talons loud retort, "Garbodor and his little followers can turn meat and wood into jet fuel. We'll take the best candidate plane, A 1955 _Fearow_ and get out of here."

"What about Pokémon striking it down from the sky?" Myra said, "Besides where would you go?"

Talon's sour expression was all she needed, though Marie attempted to save matters: "The only Pokémon that pose a significant threat are Gliscor, Fearow and Emolga. The grounded Pokémon in this region are mostly physical based, their far ranged attacks couldn't dent a war plane as sturdy as the _Fearow. _The Pokémon I mentioned shouldn't be such a problem either. Garbodor can kill them with Psychic when they get too close, and some of the Trubbish will use Barrier and Light Screen to bolster our defenses-"

"Sure, but where will you go to?" Myra said, her eyes intense, "Besides, my Pokémon guide book says that Tyranitar live in this region. A Hyperbeam from one of those behemoths could turn an old plane into ashes within seconds."

"Tyranitar are the rarest Pokémon in the whole region," Marie said, clearly miffed, "They don't usually go too lowland – they prefer it high up in the mountains. And Tyranitar don't learn Hyperbeam until level 73-"

Again Marie was interrupted, this time by Talon, "I know one Tyranitar who lives near here. And he knows Hyperbeam, Fire Blast, Ancient power, Dark Pulse, and more moves that I can't even recall." The image flashed vividly in his mind, his Toxicroak leaping over the rocks throw by Ancient Power only to be roasted by Fire Blast, his Nuzleaf attempting to weaken the Armor Pokémon using Giga Drain before being consumed by a Dark Pulse from the beast. His Cacturne got farthest of all, slamming it in the face with Focus Punch before being immolated at close range with a Hyperbeam. It was the fatigue it felt after that attack that bought Talon the time to escape.

"We haven't seen hide or hair of him,"Marie said, "Besides, once we get up to speed, his attacks won't be accurate enough to hit us." Myra realized that everyone had stopped walking when the argument had begun, and now in the silence, it became awkward.

"Let's keep walking! I'm hungry, and you promised food," Myra said, her arms crossing. This managed to bring a grim smile to Talon's face, and he led the way quickly to the 'dining' room.

**…**

Garbodor was quite pleased with himself. When he had heard that they would be having a guest, he set out to work at once. Eating on the floor would be no way to eat while guests were about; he had gone into the forest and chopped enough wood, and then used iron bolts to make his masterpiece: a table. He had then gone to work on the Fearow corpse he had secured earlier that day. He shaved off the burned part, leaving only good meat, and he wrapped it in foil to keep it warm. He tried to season it, but he had no other ingredients or spices, so he was forced to make chemical substitutes. Finally, the piece de resistance, the wine. Using the only apples he could find, and with the help of some of the Trubbish that weren't on guard duty, he had converted the apples into sweet wine, something he had not done in years. He added some to the Fearow meat for flavor; he also tried his best to add an aged flavor to the wine itself.

He had the only Trubbish on the force who knew a fire move heat up bits of glass; he shaped them into three glasses, and used the final bits with green dye to make a bottle. Then, using the move Haze, Garbodor released hundreds of droplets of cold water around them, to chill the wine and enhance its effect. He knew the effect a first impression could make; he blamed his bad relationship with _He-Trainer _on a bad first impression. He was going to make this newcomer love him like Mistress herself!

**…**

Talon's eyes nearly popped out when they entered the room, the Fearow roast displayed ever so attractively on the hardwood table, which had a plaid tablecloth over it. In a woven bin, a green bottle covered with flecks of water was visible, and three tall, elegant glasses put at different positions around the table. The plates had polished silverware flanking them, and napkins were folded gently by the side of each. The aromas filling the rooms were maddening; Talon hadn't had food this good in weeks. To add to the atmosphere, Garbodor turned on a tape recorder, which began to play older Italian music, with an accordion and everything.

"You guys are really living it up here," Myra said approvingly, taking a seat. Talon was speechless again, he tried to sputter about how they had been eating off the floor for breakfast not four hours ago. Garbodor beamed, he bowed flowing before taking a knife and cutting a large piece of meat for Myra, as another Trubbish poured her a drink. Second, he served his Mistress, shows his respect for her, and the other Trubbish cut a piece for Talon.

"Is it really sanitary for them to be serving us?" Myra said, sipping her wine. This seemed to deflate Garbodor slightly, but Marie's laugh cheered him up again.

"These Trubbish and Garbodor have fewer bacteria than you do," She said, touching the Garbage heap's shoulder, "Using their abilities to mix chemicals, they can make strong alcohols to use as disinfectants."

"You keep mentioning their 'ability to mix chemicals'," Myra asked, as she ate a slice of meat.

Talon tried his best to ignore them, savoring the meat and the drink. The only thing that miffed him was that Garbodor had never bothered to put on such a show for him.

"In the wild, Garbodor and Trubbish mix chemicals found in garbage within special chambers in their bodies to produce stronger toxins," Marie said, "I'm sure any Pokédex or guide will tell you that. Well, I was a researcher of Trubbish, the first to be exact."

"Oh, what started that?" Myra asked, taking another sip, "This is great."

Talon agreed, though technically he was only seventeen, so he was underage. "Well, early in his career, Samuel Oak studied Muk in Kanto, as they didn't naturally occur in the wild, but were a result of radiation. Anyways, he found out their effects on the environment, their internal structure, their intelligence levels… the works," Marie took quick bits of food so as not to interfere with her monologue "So, I thought I could do the same with Trubbish, After all, they were results of toxic waste. So I did, and I grew attached to them."

"Now that's what I don't understand," Myra said, "How did you get so close as to understand what they're saying?"

"This little guy was the first Trubbish I ever caught," She reached out and touched Garbodor again, making his chest swell with pride, "They had great potential. For years I was immersed in my study of these things. Could you believe that the Minister of Environment didn't want to admit they existed? I found out that they were quite intelligent, and could be trained to do complex tasks. After a few weeks, they can easily hide their scent, keeping the toxins within their skin only to use in battle, and not to taint anything around it. By mixing chemicals they were force-fed, they could do the work that many industrial processes could not, and make valuable medicines or fuels. Also, they could recycle garbage quite easily, and could handle toxic waste without a blink. After telling this to my director, he made plans to sell 'industrial Trubbish', ones trained for specific tasks. Some were for toxic waste disposal in Kanto, some for pharmaceutical companies in Kalos, some to go to some ecologist's meeting in Hoenn to demonstrate their skills. Some were even to go to the army, their ability to immediately reload guns using Recycle and make anesthetic and sleeping gas on the battle field made them seem like assets. I began training thirty or so Trubbish for the job, and two weeks before they were to be shipped out to meet their final destinies and shine ... the Undampening happened." Marie paused, gasping for breath. "So that's the story of Marie Dustdas, the one and only Garbage whisperer." A mocking smile crossed her face.

"You should've put an ad in a magazine," Myra said, the mirth evident in her voice, "they could have seen use in cities."

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter now, after all, the whole world has gone to hell," Talon said, "They could have gotten some deserved recognition, though."

Nothing could ruin the amazing meal they were eating, and even Talon had to admit, Garbodor had done a good job. This made the Garbage heap Pokémon practically inflate with glee.


	3. This Sordid Business

**I reiterate, this is a fanfiction of Pokemon, which I don't own, and is also a fanfiction of Cornova's pokewars, which I also don't own and advise you read ****_before _****trying to read this. **

**On another note, I wanted to put the section with Malamar and Zygarde in this chapter, but it was getting long, so I decided they would get a chapter all to their own. This one is enough trouble as it is.**

* * *

The Pawniard all clustered around Talon, some climbing onto his shoulders to get a better look at the pictures in the story book he had brought with him. "Easy little guys," Talon said, trying to keep his voice calm despite the metal points digging into his flesh. The Pawniard knew not to put enough pressure to pierce the skin, but it was still quite painful.

He sat down on the single mattress where all the seven Pawniard slept, trying to find a position where they could all see without climbing on him. Finally, he opened the book and began to read to them, their eyes fixed on the charming illustrations.

"At the far end of town, where the grickle-grass grows, and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows, and no birds ever sing, except for Murkrows…." He paused to take in a breath, "Is the Street of the Lifted Lorax."

* * *

Myra watched from afar, even more confused. She had come here to train on the wooden mannequins (after all, she couldn't afford to let her hand-to-hand fighting get rusty), but she had stumbled on this strange sight, and decided not to reveal herself. Talon – the very same, impulsive, angry, knife-happy Talon – was reading the Pawniard a bedtime story.

She listened as the story went forward, and couldn't help but smile. Talon read loudly, and changed his voice to make his little listeners laugh. She couldn't believe he was acting so – motherly, that was the word. This action was so heartwarming, and she knew it would end if he knew he was being watched.

"The instant I finished, I heard a _ga-zump! _I looked. I saw a Pokémon pop out of that stump of the tree I'd chopped down. It was sort of a man. Describe him… That's hard. I'm not sure if I can," Talon read, the Pawniard pointing at the colorful picture of the strange tree-loving Pokémon.

"Isn't it sweet?" said Marie's voice from directly behind Myra.

"Crap, someone should put a bell around your neck," Myra whispered, "I couldn't hear you coming. You are the sneakiest scientist I have ever met."

"It's just because of these bunny slippers," she replied, "They muffle my footsteps."

"Has he always done that?" Myra asked, her eyes still focusing on the sweet scene.

"Well, after a week of training the Pawniard, I noticed that they were becoming… alienated, estranged," Marie shrugged, "I remembered something that was written in Professor Cedric Juniper's notes: 'Of the Pokémon in the Unova region, many have a startling likeness to man, such as Sawk, Throh, Gothita, and Bisharp. The inexperienced trainer must be warned when raising them: they are not as simplistic as your mundane Stoutland and Liepard. When in their growing stages, their trainer must not only raise them physically, but he also must be watchful of their _mental_ and _emotional_ growth. At very young ages, the trainer must form emotional bonds with them, giving them mental stability and helping to prevent more homicidal and sociopathic tendencies spouting from isolation.' I told him that one day three weeks ago, and he seemed to understand, and told me he'd 'take care of it'."

"You're rather long winded, aren't you?" Myra said, "I understand though. It's like raising a human kid: if you just gave a toddler a knife and told him to fight, he would grow up into some mass murderer. You have to give a toddler toys, coloring pages, a good mother, and the like."

"He thinks that the rest of us don't know," Marie whispered, her eyes shiny, "Watching him do this convinced me that he'd be a great father."

Myra just raised an eyebrow. "Hey, before I came up with the plan to fly away in the plane, I had considered just living for the rest of my life in this compound, surrounded with armed Trubbish," Marie said, refusing to reveal any embarrassment, "Because Talon was the only other person here... Well, my mind came to certain conclusions."

"Now I know you're real scientist," Myra said, with a hint of mirth in her voice, "You over-think too much."

"Let's move away, before he spots us," Marie said, her voice even, "I'm almost certain that he would die of embarrassment."

The two women moved through the halls, away from the Pawniard's room. "Too bad we have to leave this place," Marie said, "But the encroaching Pokémon would probably drive us out within the decade. Besides, there are large populations of Sandslash in the area – I'm surprised they haven't dug into the place already."

* * *

The Sandslash hacked tirelessly at the walls of bedrock. They didn't complain about their fate, they weren't dying above in droves. Every once in a while, one would go above and join the raiding parties to attack the human fortress, so that the humans wouldn't get suspicious. It was taking a long time to build a proper tunnel through these thick walls of stone, probably since the Trubbish above had leaked toxins into the ground. Sometimes they would open a pocket of poison gas while they were digging, many of their number had died this way.

They had to open ventilation shafts every once in awhile, to let air in, and let gasses out. They questioned not the word of their masters, they simply obeyed. Was it their job to decide whether or not they would die? If he said dig, then they would dig. If he said die, they would die. It was very simple in the minds of the Sand mouse Pokémon – power meant leadership.

"Daddy, can't we just attack them all and kill them?" the baby Larvitar whined, grasping its father's tail, "Why do we have to make a stinky old tunnel into their base?"

"Because the humans have many landmines and tanks at their perimeter," the Tyranitar rumbled, "And the Trubbish can use Lock-on to make the missiles never miss."

"Can't you destroy those tanks with Hyper Beam?" the Larvitar asked.

"Not all of them at once," it replied, looking at the Sandslash digging away, "Besides, what of the landmines and bombs?"

"Send other Pokémon to set them off?" the baby said hopefully.

"I won't waste any more troops," The Tyraniter said, "They listen to me because I am strong – the strongest in this whole area. If too many of them die at my expense, then they will think that I am weak and cowardly, so I will defeat the humans on my own. This is something you should learn about, when you become the ruler of these parts."

"Okay, if you say so," the Larvitar scratched its head, "How much longer till we get past the tanks?"

"We have been digging for many weeks now, son," the Tyranitar said, "In a few hours, we will reach the landing point and I will kill them all."

"I'll help you fight daddy!" the Larvitar cheered.

"One day, you will evolve, and you will fight and spill blood like me," the Tyranitar declared, "But for now you are too small. Humans are crafty creatures, they might capture you. See me fight, but stay in the shadows using Faint Attack. If you are spotted, run for the tunnel. You know the move Protect, use it to defend from their attacks."

"Okay," the little Larvitar said, disappointed, "What would you do if I got captured?"

"I would follow the Humans to the end of the world and back to rescue you!" the Tyranitar said, his voice fierce and angry.

* * *

Talon left the Pawniard's room, immensely satisfied. Story time, like usual, was a big hit. It was only coincidence that he had found a copy of _The Lorax_ in a desk in one of the strange rooms of the depot. At least he had put it to good use. Finally he found them in the hangar, admiring the _Fearow_.

"All loaded and gassed up," Marie continued, "We even managed to stuff the Gulpin back into its pokéball! Tomorrow we're off into the great blue yonder!"

"Don't I know it," Myra said, "I helped do that."

"I hope Kanto is better off than here," Marie sighed, "I picked that location because it had fewer indigenous Pokémon species, 151 compared to Unova's whopping 300. But now that I think about it, that doesn't make them any less deadly..."

"We worked too hard now to go back," Myra huffed, "We even managed to load up the pokéballs you got from the poké transfer labs, including the stinking Gulpin." She looked down at her watch, just as she finished, "I wonder if Talon's finished yet. We have 'good' news to tell him."

Talon was surprised. He was almost behind them, and yet they couldn't detect his presence? Marie at a certain point had heard a Pawniard trying to escape – if her ears could pick up a Dark type trying to sneak, then why couldn't they hear his footsteps? He quelled his suspicion, perhaps they weren't paying attention. He decided to see how far he could go with this.

He advanced faster, now consciously trying to be undetectable. Myra opened her mouth to say something, but Talon reached her first, leaning his head above her shoulder, and whispered in her ear "What good news?"

Myra leapt forward, startled. Marie also jumped; she turned immediately with a 9 mm pistol aimed at him. A split second later it was withdrawn, she had seen that it was in fact Talon behind them, not an attacking Ghost type. "Come on, Talon!" Marie whined, "Don't do that to me! How did you get so close?"

"I'm just surprised you're taking it worse than she is," Talon said, gesturing at Myra.

"Both of you are too stealthy for my taste," Myra said, "the reason I don't pop a gun on you is because I have – erm, had – a Pokémon that loved to do that to me." This made Talon silent; his Toxicroak had a knack for doing that, appearing right behind him using Faint Attack and boxing his ears when it felt he was being foolish. Like when he talked to pretty girls, for example….

He shook that thought from his mind – he couldn't afford to get sad or angry, not in front of these two. "What is the good news?" Talon said, suddenly more reserved.

"Garbodor will not be the one to pilot the plane," Marie said, her voice brimming with relief, "Myra has her own Pokémon who can do it."

"Any Pokémon is a better pilot than that Garbodor," Talon said, "So, can we see it?"

"Yeah, you haven't even shown me what _he _is," Marie said, pouting, "You kept saying that we should wait until Talon showed up."

"I guess I can't procrastinate any longer," Myra murmured, before taking out a pokéball and muttering, "Crap, I wish we didn't have to resort to this…. go, Beheeyem…."

The pokéball opened to release a surprisingly small Pokémon. It had a huge oblong head, with green eyes, and its body was beige color. Colored fingers flashed in sequences, rather jarring to the eye. It levitated a few feet above the ground, so that its eyes were level with Talon's own. Its body was limp and atrophied, it could only lift its arms up to reveal its glowing fingers.

"A Beheeyem!" Marie said, her eyes shining, "I thought I would never get to see one in person! They're that rare you know-"

Talon could no longer hear the drone of Marie's voice; he couldn't concentrate on anything but the rhythmic flashing of its fingertips. He felt a strange presence, not within the room, but within his mind. It sifted through his mind, picking out certain memories. "This is only taking an instant," a voice said, though somehow it didn't seem to be coming from outside, it sounded more like a thought, "Wait while I compensate for slow human reaction times."

The world did indeed seem to be becoming slower to Talon. Marie's voice had stopped; Myra was nearly in place, her face the perfect image of barely contained anger. "This message must be conveyed quickly," the voice said, "I don't have the power to keep this up for extended periods, and as soon as this effect finishes, Myra will get suspicious."

"Is that your voice, Beheeyem?" Talon asked aloud, as the Pokémon seemed to be the only thing not slowed down. "Why are you in my head!?" he erupted, his curiosity suddenly changing to anger as his reaction time finally got up to speed.

"I cannot speak with my mouth, we speak using light signals," the Beheeyem responded through the voice in his head, "Now can we continue? I have no time for trivialities! I looked at your meeting with Myra, and know that you suspected her at first-"

"Why did you make things slow?" Talon interrupted, still angry, "Have something to say but you don't want them to hear? What's so secretive? Huh?"

"I tried to convey this very message to your companion, Marie," it responded quickly, "But her contact lenses prevented my light from touching her brain directly. You will have to tell her this."

"I," Talon began, before something like a foghorn blew in his head, interrupting his thoughts.

"Did I not say that we have little time?" the voice said, annoyed, "Now, my message revolves around Myra. She is no human, and I am not her Pokémon! If you could scan her psychically, you could see the organ differences, but you have no psychic sense, and I am correct in my assumption that killing her and dissecting her is out of the question."

"Wha-" again the foghorn noise blew in Talon's head.

"She is under the impression that she's human, but she's not," The voice said hurriedly, "And her digestive system indicates a much more _carnivorous_ diet than humans. Her muscles are much stronger than that of a man, her reactions faster, and her immune system hardier – many indicators indeed."

"Okay, so you say she's not human," Talon said shakily, expecting the foghorn sound, "So what do you think she is?"

"No species known to me," it replied, "Though it does share many similarities with humans. Her DNA indicates that, despite her appearance, she is but a few months old. Her other Pokémon and I are not actually hers, we were placed upon her not two weeks ago. While the others were easily implanted with fake memories, my species is hard to – influence, let's say. While memory of what occurred before the two weeks is missing, I have no loyalty or kinship towards her, unlike her other Pokémon who would fight to the death for her favor."

"Something manipulated memories? And she's two weeks old-" again the sound echoed through Talon's skull.

"The only reason I have not killed her yet is because she truly believes that she is human. She has fake memories, like her Pokémon," the voice said, "And I sense no malignance in her thoughts. Something else disturbs me – only something powerful and with a lot of resources could have accomplished this, and to what purpose? Why would something – Pokémon or human – create something with perfect likeness to a human, that truly believes it is human, and simply let it off into your midst? The answer eludes me – I only suspect that this is some sort of test, designed to see whether or not this 'something' is a convincible human, or perhaps study some effect it has on others. Why else choose such an isolated environment? Implant something so valuable (the result of months of work and immense funding) in a fortress alone with two humans and Trubbish?"

Talon strained to take it all in – Beheeyem perhaps wasn't perfect at 'compensating for slow human reaction times' – and though he understood part by part, the more he understood, the more unbelievable it seemed.

Beheeyem sensed his distrust. "Notice her physical and psychological similarity to you. I doubt that this is coincidence! You were suspicious at first, as well you should be!" he still sensed disbelief coming from Talon, "I don't ask that you believe me on faith – simply remain suspicious, as you were at first, and remain prepared at all times."

"Why are you doing this? Why do you care about me and Marie?" Talon said, no longer cringing at the thought of the foghorn noise.

"I need allies – I cannot pass for a wild Pokémon – and if Myra decided to be rid of me, would you complain? Not if I didn't make my side clear!" Time seemed to be speeding up again, "My power is failing. I will not be able to keep this up for much longer. I sense you judge my words – I beg, I plead that you remain alert. It is for your own good…"

Talon realized that in the slowed down interval, it hadn't been paused completely. Marie had finished her sentence and was starting a new one, Myra had lowered her arms.

"They first appeared in the desert in the fifties, and the government wouldn't admit their existence, they simply locked them up for study. The public didn't get wind of them till the late seventies! After one newspaper claimed they were aliens, the media exploded with news of them! The government tried to gain as much information as it could, but the original specimens caught in the wild died, leaving only children behind – which had none of the technological knowledge of their parents, despite their advanced psychic abilities and higher-than-human intelligence. They were bred in captivity, but during the Pokémon rights movement, one government official managed to smuggle a truckload out of confinement, and they have lived in the wild of Unova ever since. While wild ones show no signs of technological advancement, some scientists claim that they have regained some of their ancestor's lost knowledge. Similar to Starmie, they have been known to send radio signals into the sky-"

"Listening to you is like watching the Discovery Channel," Myra muttered sullenly, "Too many useless details!"

"Why are you so angry?" Talon said, feeling strange that he wasn't the one fuming, "And why were you so reluctant to let Beheeyem out?"

"If it were up to me, he'd never smell fresh air again," she said, her eyes narrowing, "He evolved two weeks ago – before that he was sweet and innocent. Afterwards he became an arrogant bastard. It offended him that I was the trainer, and he was the Pokémon. He tried to convince my other Pokémon that I wasn't human, that I was some threat to them, and he scared off any humans I met! He's still my Pokémon – I couldn't leave him out in the wild – but that doesn't mean that I need to let him out of his pokéball too often!"

"What did he tell the other people?" Marie said, still examining the floating psychic.

"Oh, that I was 'like a human, but not', how my organs were different, I was actually a carnivore, a fake, and was probably going to eat them in the night, or some shit like that!" Myra said all in one breath, "It all spouts from some inferiority complex! After all those years of training that sweet little guy, and now those venomous lies!" she was really getting worked up now.

The Beheeyem remained expressionless; after all, it had no facial futures except for eyes. "How did it talk to people?" Marie said, now circling around the Beheeyem to see the back of its head, "I thought they communicated with colored flashing from their fingers…"

"Psychically, of course," Myra said, "He would confer huge messages in an instant. I wouldn't have even known if it weren't for my Yamask telling me. Now that he's gone – well, I have no idea what that Beheeyem is saying or doing."

"He didn't communicate with me," Marie said, her eyes troubled, "How about you, Talon?"

Talon's eyes narrowed, "No," he said, "But I should stay cautious for the unexpected." Marie raised an eyebrow; such a turn of phrase was alien to his lips. He hoped his message had gotten across to the Beheeyem. He didn't believe him totally – but remaining cautious did make sense.

* * *

Garbodor felt very suspicious. The nursemaid Trubbish had heard strange noises from the Pawniard's room, so he had gone to investigate. He marched across the floor, his ears arched, trying to hear the scratching and clicking he had heard before. All the Pawniard were awake and nervous, they had been awakened by the noises only a few moments ago.

A yellow claw broke through the concrete floor, followed by an armored back and a sandy face with large black eyes. The Pawniard closest acted instinctively, one metal blade glowed white and grew longer and larger. It swung its blade arm with savage force; it executed a perfect Guillotine attack. The intruding Pokémon was cut in half, and both rolled backward into the hole from where it had come.

* * *

The two pieces of its corpse fell down the almost vertical tunnel, bouncing off the backs of the busily digging Sandslash before rolling to the feet of the watching Tyranitar. This made all the Sand-mouse Pokémon panic, and almost all digging stopped as they tried to retreat only to lose their grip and roll down the steep tunnel themselves, or get trampled by bigger Sandslash.

"I didn't expect them to meet us at the entrance," the Tyranitar rumbled, "You must be careful that they don't spot you, son."

"Don't worry daddy," the Larvitar responded, "They won't catch me."

Something from above peeked inside, it was the face of a Garbodor. Between its fingers a small green orb formed, and it chucked it into the hole. It bounced down the tunnel as the body and the panicked Sandslash had, landing at Tyranitar's feet. It was lucky that he had instinctively used Protect, the orb exploded violently, filling the surrounding Sandslash with green shrapnel, killing them instantly. "Seed Bomb," the Tyranitar said to his son, who was protected by his father's defense, "A very deadly attack indeed. It seems as if I will have a satisfying battle above."

"You go daddy!" the Larvitar cheered.

Those Sandslash who survived fled, they were not used to such blatant carnage. Tyranitar let them flee, he had been planning on ordering them to go back anyway. Besides, more than half of their adults were now amongst the dead; he didn't blame them for running. "Immediately after I emerge, you come out son," the Tyranitar said confidently, "They will be too distracted by my grandeur to notice a small Pokémon in the shadows." The Garbodor peeked in again, another green orb between his fingertips. Tyranitar opened his mouth wide and the roaring of flames could be heard within. Not a second afterward the Fire Blast attack burst out, immolating Sandslash remains and heading towards the Garbodor's head.

* * *

Garbodor threw another Seed Bomb, thought he suspected that it wouldn't reach the Tyranitar below. It had summoned a roiling wall of flame with frightening speed; Garbodor considered that it might be the highest level Pokémon he had ever laid eyes on. The Fire Blast reached the hole and widened the exit, blowing rocks everywhere. The Pawniard had wisely taken cover, they seemed unharmed. Only an instant later the Tyranitar itself emerged, sending concrete, rock and red-hot sand raining on all the Pokémon in the room. The Pawniard made a formation, blades poised, just as they had been ordered in training. Their blades swung in a perfect ark, cleaving the wind in their wake. All seven used Whirlwind at once, making a wind so strong that it knocked the giant Armor Pokémon backward, tumbling embarrassingly back into the hole from which it had emerged so dramatically.

Garbodor admired their courage; the _He-Trainer_ knew how to coach. He couldn't let them stay for long, now that the surprise factor was gone, the Tyranitar could easily take them out. The nursing Trubbish had appeared just in time, he ordered her to grab the Pawniard and set the alarm. She extended fronds of trash and nabbed all of them, then swiftly exited.

The Tyranitar emerged again, this time surrounded by an orange aura. Garbodor had another Seed Bomb ready, he threw it and it detonated over his attacker's head. The shrapnel didn't penetrate flesh and stone as he expected, but bounced off the orange aura and flew in every direction, going faster than they had been going before. Many pieces hit Garbodor himself, embedding themselves in his outer layers of grime, not actually getting to any vital organs.

The Tyranitar gave him no quarter, a ball of energy formed in its mouth. Garbodor had only a second to react before the Hyperbeam blasted out, punching a hole through the wall and causing explosions everywhere. Garbodor had used Roll Out, packing his heavy form into a compact ball and speedily rolling out of there. He had done this to escape, there was no point hitting the Tyranitar with a weaker move like Roll Out when Seed Bomb had done nothing.

He unrolled a second later to launch an Acid Spray attack at the Tyranitar. Despite using such an energy consuming move like Hyperbeam, the Tyranitar only faltered a moment, and shot a Dark Pulse in his direction. The Acid Spray attack again touched the glowing aura, which changed its color to bright white. The acid from the attack was sprayed everywhere, but it didn't even touch the Tyranitar. The Dark Pulse, on the other hand, hit its target, blasting off layers of grime and steel from Garbodor's left shoulder.

Garboidor again rolled away using Roll Out. His legs were too short to move quickly while he was running, so for the purpose of fleeing, Roll Out would have to do. He rolled out a window into a small courtyard before barreling into the next building. The Tyranitar didn't even bother with an attack, it simply raised its foot and kicked a hole in the wall. It ignored the rain of concrete and cinder blocks that came after it had shattered the build's main support, they bounced off its armor.

Now the Tyranitar was out in the open, searching for the Garbodor. He had seen it fight from afar, he considered it to be the greatest threat here. He caught a brief glimpse of his son emerging from the hole, then disappearing using Faint Attack. Now Tyranitar felt it wouldn't be too ostentatious to use his most powerful attack, now that his son was watching. What was the point of getting into great battles if you couldn't show off a bit to other members of your species?

Garbodor felt the entire building he was in shake, as something strong took hold of it, ripping it off the foundations and lifting it up into the air. A conversation ran through Garbodor's mind, remembered from some time long past when he used to watch documentaries on the Discovery Channel with his mistress. "_Tyranitar, the Armor Pokémon_," the mechanical voice of the pokédex ran through his mind, as the building around him began to break apart, "_Tyranitar has a heavily armored body that can withstand powerful attacks and is able to crush a mountain with one hand_."

Muscles heaved and were surrounded by a white aura as the Tyranitar used its Strength attack to lift the whole building out of the ground. The building wasn't sturdy enough to survive such manhandling, and chunks began to rain down upon the Armor Pokémon. He grunted and then threw the structure into another concrete building, breaking both of them completely. Trubbish fled from the wreckage, crouching behind piles of concrete and steel to take cover from the multiple Fire Blasts and Dark Pulses fired by the Tyranitar.

Garbodor was trapped beneath tons of concrete. There were enough gaps to let air in, but nothing he could squeeze out of. He tried to move some pieces, but they were too heavy. All the while, he tried to think of how to damage the Tyranitar. Think like a human, think like a human, think like a human… those thoughts kept running through his mind. What would his mistress do? He had no chance of defeating the beast, but he could delay it enough for his fellows and his trainer to escape. But his attacks had bounced off…

Why was that? Could he figure out a way around it? The only attacks he knew that could reflect Pokémon moves were Counter and Mirror Coat… But each of those only reflected physical attacks and special attacks alone. What if Tyranitar was using both at once? That would explain why the glow had changed from orange to white… Garbodor congratulated himself for thinking like a human. Now he knew how his foe was _invincible_ – now how would he take advantage of that?

* * *

The Tyranitar roared deafeningly, gaining the attention of the humans in a far away building. Beheeyem's lights flashed urgently, as the Nursemaid Trubbish dashed into the room, franticly calling. The seven Pawniard had tagged along, and they danced eagerly in front of Talon, trying to explain how they had used their formation properly.

"A Tyranitar is attacking!" Marie said, a calm façade taking hold of her features, "I have to go organize a counter attack by the Trubbish-"

"No," said Talon, as he saw flames roaring from far off, "This might be the same Tyranitar I met when I left the compound. That is a Fire Blast attack."

"Any Tyranitar could know that attack," Myra said skeptically, "We should do something!"

"I remember that roar," Talon said, his eyes burning, "As much as I would like to see that bastard dead, we stand no chance. We have to use the air plane while it's distracted."

"We can't leave the Trubbish behind!" Marie said, working hard not to sound distressed. She was surprised that the others were acting as calm as they were, she was expecting some panic and swearing.

"Tell them to use the move Substitute," Myra said thoughtfully, "The Tyranitar would think they were real, and he would be busy fighting while we made an escape. But who will tell the Trubbish this and round them up here?"

The Beheeyem had already levitated out the window and flown towards the sight of the fighting.

* * *

Tyranitar laughed, he had all of them trapped. Their moves were useless against his Mirror Coat /Counter combo, so they could do no damage to him. If they came out of cover, they would be incinerated. If they tried to flee, his Fire Blasts would incinerate them. All they could do was hide and wait for him to reach and destroy them. As soon as the Trubbish were dealt with, then the humans would be easy. Perhaps he should let his son do the honors.

Something small appeared in front of his snout, it floated above the ground and flashed annoyingly in his face. He opened his mouth to do Fire Blast, but the floating thing made an intense flash of light, blinding him for a few seconds. He launched the Fire Blast, but that didn't help, the floating thing was gone already. As soon as his vision returned, he searched about, ready to strike if he spotted it again. He tried to raise a claw, but he could not.

"Such a juggernaut of destructive force," a voice said from behind him, "To be brought low by a simple paralyzing attack like Thunder Wave."

"What devilry is this?" Tyranitar hissed, "I am a ground type! No electric attack could strike me!"

"You lost your ground attribute when you evolved into a Tyranitar," the speaker came into view – a small beige Pokémon that Tyranitar couldn't identify, "Though some of it remains within. This attack will not shackle you forever."

"Unwise of you to tell me that," Tyranitar grunted, "I will kill you soon."

"No, I am confident that you will not attack me," the levitating Pokémon said, "You are invincible as you are – even while you are paralyzed, you are protected by Mirror Coat and Counter. An interesting strategy, I complement you for managing it. Only moves that don't harm directly – like Thunder Wave and Flash – can touch you. Perhaps their bullets can hit your hide, but that will not harm you."

Tyranitar felt mobility returning to his claws, and he let out a quick swipe, trying to slice the floating Pokémon in two. It floated just out of reach, while he could move his arms, his legs were still paralyzed. He could feel his neck gaining mobility, and he prepared to strike with Fire Blast.

Then he heard a noise – one that could fill even him with fear. His son gasped for breath, lifted from the ground and strangled by psychic energy. The floating Pokémon shrugged, using Psychic to lift the tiny Larvitar, "If you try to attack me, he will be my shield. He is not a Dark Type, he hasn't evolved yet. If you try to attack me, I will move him in the way of your attack – he is a living shield, my living shield of flesh and stone. It may be despicable in your eyes that I must use hostage tactics – but then again, I didn't come thousands of light-years to die on some backwater world in the middle of a dingy compound guarded by piles of walking filth."

"I will definitely kill you now," the Tyranitar said, his rage flaring, "You are a floating corpse!" he grabbed a huge chunk of concrete and lifted it as a club – but he couldn't swing without killing his own flesh and blood. His son tried to break free, but could not. From beneath the rubble, the Garbodor emerged, shotgun aimed. He swung his improvised club at the poison Pokémon instead, but it ducked, rolling out of harm's way and then firing multiple times with his gun.

"Don't bother," the floating Pokémon said, "He won't attack us anymore – unless he wants to witness infanticide." Tyranitar saw now that he didn't speak, one free hand flashed and somehow he understood from the color of the lights. "Stay rooted to this spot, if you want this little runt to live. If you attack any of the Trubbish, he will die. If you attack me, he will die. If you try to shoot down the plane, he will die. Is that getting through your thick skull?"

"Yes," the Tyranitar grunted, "But know this – I will find you. Then I will kill you. I will rip your corpse limb from limb. I will-"

"Stop the theatrics," the Pokémon snapped, "No threat you could possibly make would faze me. To make sure that you do not strike when I am not present, I will be keeping your son. He will make a lovely Pokémon for the humans to train, no? If you agree to these terms – only then will I return him, as soon as we take flight. Will you remain rooted to this spot?"

The Tyranitar felt like he should just use Hyper Beam and incinerate this impudent psychic – but he could not. "I will not attack," he said, reluctantly. The opposing Pokémon had no facial expressions, but he could swear that it was grinning wickedly.

"Now that this sordid business is up," the floating Pokémon said, "We must depart. Remember, if you let us fly away, then I will return your son by teleportation." It raised one hand and made a huge flash, which all the Trubbish witnessed. They jumped from the ruins of the concrete fortress and went back towards a mostly undamaged building.

* * *

As soon as the Trubbish flooded in, Talon became more confused. The Beheeyem and Garbodor appeared soon after, the psychic undamaged, but Garbodor's left arm looked like it was about to fall off. "Garbodor," Marie cooed, "What happened?" Garbodor raised his good arm and began to speak, which Talon of course couldn't understand.

The Beheeyem ignored most of the human's reactions, he simply ushered most of the Trubbish into the _Fearow. _Behind him a small Pokémon floated, struggling to breath. "Tell us what happened out there?" Myra demanded, "Why did it stop attacking?"

The Beheeyem flashed with its fingers. "So you paralyzed it?" Myra said, "That's it? Am I supposed to believe that?"

The Beheeyem shrugged, before it continued to usher Trubbish and seven feisty Pawniad into the plane. Marie simply went along, returning many of the Trubbish to their pokéballs. The Beheeyem lifted an empty pokéball with its psychic power, and it captured the small floating Pokémon with it.

"Hey!" Myra said, steaming, "What was that Pokémon? Why did you just capture it?"

The Beheeyem simply chucked it into her hand, before levitating into the plane. It lifted its hand and let out a flash of yellow light. Talon immediately understood, as did Myra, though Marie was confused. "We must fly away," the voice in his mind rang, "Before he recovers."

Everyone crowded onto the plane and Marie continued to put Trubbish back into their pokéballs. Garbodor crouched in a corner, nursing his wounds. The Pawniard were still pumped from their first taste of 'real combat' and they jumped around peering out the windows. As the engines started up, everyone was forced to sit down.

* * *

The Tyranitar did indeed see the plane take off, but his son didn't appear. Within his mouth, a Hyper Beam began to charge, aimed at the plane. But then, the psychic Pokémon itself appeared in front of him, making him falter in his attack.

"I wasn't certain you would uphold your side of the deal," the Tyranitar huffed.

The floating psychic waved his hand, and from mid-air, his son appeared. The Tyranitar stood stoic for a moment, unsure of whether he should show weakness and embrace his son, or stand there until the psychic disappeared, and then welcome his son. _To hell with it,_ the Tyranitar thought, _he's leaving forever in that flying machine anyway!_ He rushed forward to lift his son – only to find that he was intangible. He tried again, but his claws went through what he now realized was an illusion. The Tyranitar turned in rage to the psychic, shooting the previously charged Hyper Beam, but it went through the strange Pokémon, revealing that it too was an illusion.

"I was here in person before," it said, or inferred via its glowing fingers, "But this is just an astral projection, none of your attacks can hurt me."

"Why didn't you give him back!?" the Tyranitar roared, turning to look for the plane, with another Hyper Beam charging.

"I needed to distract you until the plane was out of range," the psychic said, "As it is now. It's too far away for your attack to pierce the Light Screens the Trubbish erected. I'm sorry for taking your son, abductions aren't normally my style, and I leave that to our scientists. But seeing your strength, I realized he might be a valuable ally, should he be trained properly. There would be no negative repercussions, as our destination is out of your reach. You will be hard-pressed to cross oceans, no? Especially considering that you're a rock type."

The Tyranitar roared, releasing the Hyper Beam anyway. The plane veered to left, as if by coincidence, and the Hyper Beam missed it completely. Soon, the plane would be out of sight, going beyond the mountains in the west. "Don't worry as to his fate," the projection said, becoming fuzzy, as its projector got farther and farther away, "The humans will train him till he is a Tyranitar, and he will become a powerful warrior, like you. He will be a valuable ally, considering that, unlike you, he is not a dark type, so I can and will tamper with his memories before he evolves. Have fun making a new son, and tell the wife I said hello!"

This was the ultimate spite, and the Tyranitar launched a Fire Blast, exhausted after using Hyper Beam so many times in a row, but the illusion disappeared, and the plane was already miles away. For the first time since he himself had been a Larvitar, he felt helpless, crushed and defeated. His son would be like some trained Aipom for the humans, fighting and dying at their will. This was something he couldn't bear!

"Son, I will find you!" he roared, so loudly that it echoed off the surrounding mountains, "And you, psychic, your days are numbered! You and your human masters will burn!"

* * *

**So, the big question- all of you have guessed that Beheeyem is a manipulative Pokemon. So, is he telling the truth about Myra, or simply trying to mislead them?**


End file.
